


A Matter of Pride

by drtempledragon



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Marriage, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 06:54:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18987520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drtempledragon/pseuds/drtempledragon
Summary: Post The Girl in the Fireplace, the Universe conspires to make all the females in in lust after the Doctor. Mickey wants to go to a proper alien planet, and ends up on a lion and hyena world where the Bride-to-be has many male love interests.Originally posted on LiveJournal and archived on Teaspoon.





	A Matter of Pride

***

Despite Rose’s initial misgivings about the Doctor inviting him on board, the first night Mickey spent on the TARDIS was a laugh. Once they had quickly deflected the conversation about past ‘companions’ from themselves and onto the Doctor, the Doctor seemed delighted in mentioning a number of illustrious women he’d met on his travels, and with whom he occasionally travelled. The first day, Mickey was optimistic about his romantic chances with Rose. Walking around the fifty-first century spaceship, he kept bringing up how she was one in a long line and that the Doctor didn’t care. Seemingly confirming Mickey’s theory, they had a demonstration of the Doctor’s taste for accomplished women in the form of Madame de Pompadour.

Despite his effectively abandoning them via a one way time portal, Rose wanted to wait for the Doctor, though he gave little indication he would be returning. The ‘I was right’ dance didn’t seem appropriate whilst trapped on a cold, dark spaceship. Besides, he knew from when they were a couple on Earth that Rose wouldn’t be convinced to leave by taunts - stubborn Tyler streak. In Mickey’s mind, it wasn’t the first time the Doctor had abandoned his ship and crew to a different time and place, but Rose seemed reluctant to even talk to the TARDIS to take them home.

When the Doctor returned on the second evening, it seemed to be an average day in his life. Mickey wasn’t ready for the companion hugging the Doctor offered; he smelled of heavy perfume that seemed to intoxicate Rose. Maybe it masked the Doctor’s alien cologne, which women seemed to flock to mindlessly. He disappeared again, with explanations promised for later. Yet when all were safely on board the TARDIS, and Reinette was in the past, his explanations proved brief and lacklustre. But far from being a typical player, Mickey saw that the Doctor cared but wanted to be left alone. Rose had eaten a lot of chips that night. Mickey had gotten a lot of hugs from Rose, too.

Now it was the second morning, and Mickey was admiring his dark, muscular form in the reflective surfaces of the first bathroom he’d found. He still wasn’t used to the sounds of the TARDIS, or her shifting nature. He had been cautiously optimistic about meeting Rose in there, given the array of bottles on the coral ledges and the dirt she had accumulated from yesterday’s spaceship excursion. Instead, it was the Doctor’s cheery singing that reverberated around the walls to greet him. It was a far cry from the brooding solitude Mickey had left the Doctor to the previous night. It sounded like a rendition of The Lion Sleeps Tonight.

The Doctor’s speech flowed effortlessly from verse upon seeing him, as seemingly did his eyes. “Oh! Hello Mickey,” he beamed, with his hands tugging at the sash to the blue fleece dressing gown he’d borrowed since Christmas, “nice to have a morning riser on board.” 

Mickey coughed; he was unaccustomed to such chatter in men’s bathrooms. The Doctor continued his long strides towards him. It was too late to turn to face the wall, and Mickey unsubtly shoved the purple flannel he was holding in front of his manly pride. The Doctor breezed past him, outwardly oblivious as he shucked off the dressing gown and tossed it over a coral outcrop with practised ease. Mickey found himself watching the Doctor’s pale form as he stroked a shimmering wall that hummed and jetted a cascade of water in response. Mickey noted that the Doctor’s touch even made his ship gush, which the Doctor duly arched and stretched beneath, leaving extended shadows in reflections. “Liked what you’ve seen so far?”

“Huh?” came Mickey’s distracted response, as he measured up the long, thin competition for Rose’s affection before it disappeared behind clouds of steam. No apparent compatibility issues, so why hadn’t Rose boasted about that? Perhaps she was put off by memories of the last guy with musical ‘talent’. “Everything’s been a bit,” Mickey raised his voice over the ‘Wimoweh’ chorus, “human and Earth-based.”

“Oh, be fair,” the Doctor’s head appeared from the mist, “it’s not every day you find a magic door to Earth’s past on a spaceship. And I have to take you to places with an Earth-like atmosphere, otherwise you’ll die.” A hand appeared too, and grabbed some of the bottles off the ledges before vanishing again. Not that Mickey paid real attention to such things, but one bottle looked suspiciously like the gloss shampoo for long hair that Rose used.

“Rose gets mad if you use her stuff,” Mickey piped up. “Not that I’ve ever used her shampoo,” he quickly added, brushing water back over his close cropped hair.

“Rose doesn’t come in here anymore,” the Doctor said nonchalantly, which both surprised and pleased Mickey. Maybe the bottles were a collection from past companions. Though he’d have to find out where Rose bathed, so he didn’t have to endure morning sessions with a voiced cloud. 

The voice broke his thoughts, “Are you going to stand there all day?” Mickey realised the Doctor could probably see him with his non-human eyes, and left wrapped in a towel to get dressed in his room back into the same clothes.

***

The TARDIS landed with a bump. Rose had secured herself to the coral buttresses on the main console, Mickey was knocked into the metal railings surrounding the flight platform, and the Doctor was already striding towards the exit, bypassing his fawn overcoat. He had already opened the police box doors and was admiring the view when Rose excitedly asked, “So, where are we?”

“Proud Pack,” the Doctor announced. “Oh, hold on,” he added, dashing back to the console and crouching down to look underneath. Rose was bemused.

“Is it really called that?” she asked as she hopped over to the doors. Rose looked outside, and was greeted by a feeling of heat and a view of sparse trees across golden plains of grass. She was grateful she’d opted for a short shirt and jeans.

“Well, that’s the translation. I don’t have the voice to pronounce it in its proper tongue.” The Doctor pocketed something in his pinstriped jacket and came to stand by Rose, “I wanted to call it Roaring Laughter.”

“Why’s it called that?” Rose enquired as the Doctor went to close the doors. “And aren’t you forgetting something?” she added, at which point he opened the doors again as if inspecting the hinges.

Mickey came onto the entrance ramp and peered over their shoulders. He caught sight of a furred figure and pointed. Rose and the Doctor turned to see the creature, which sniffed the air before notably moving towards a rocky outcrop. The Doctor grinned.

“They know we’re here,” he said with infectious enthusiasm as he pulled the doors closed. “Come on!” he glanced at Mickey, grabbed Rose’s hand and smiled winningly at her.

Rose kept up with the Doctor’s long strides with equally confident ones, and Mickey jogged to keep pace, though he stumbled among the thick grass shoots. They, too, were headed toward the pinnacle of grey rocks.

Mickey was out of breath when they reached what appeared to be a boundary marked by pebbles; he was unused to the physical demands of adventuring. They stopped just before the boundary; there was already a small crowd gathering. Mickey stared at the sight of leather clad humanoids, with slight fur on their bodies, elongated faces with bristling whiskers, and impressively spiky hair.

“They’re lion people,” he squeaked. Rose patted him on the shoulder and slid her hand down his back in a comforting gesture; she was more accustomed to such sights.

“Now, don’t stare,” the Doctor chided. “You wanted to see the Universe beyond Earth humans, Mickey Smith. Embrace the culture!”

As if on cue, a well built, tanned figure dressed in royal blue cloth robes stepped through the crowd to stand in front of them. He regarded the Doctor with what appeared to be a yawn, baring a commanding set of pointed teeth; his face was framed by long, ginger hair that was braided to a point over his chest. The Doctor didn’t flinch. Instead, he reached inside his pinstriped jacket pocket and held up a lion’s tooth with a blue, wooden chip wedged inside it. “Pride lands of Chaka,” he addressed the leader, “recognise your kith.” Everybody present stared at the object; a mix of shock and wonder from the people, and looks of confusion from Mickey and Rose.

The leader pushed his mane aside, revealing a row of various sized teeth on a necklace, including one that matched that in the Doctor’s hand. He held it up to mirror the Doctor’s pose, “House of TARDIS.” He grinned widely and stretched out his arms equally so, “it has been many seasons and generations. Welcome.”

The Doctor gave his own toothy grin and stepped over the pebbled threshold. They held onto each other’s forearms in a very masculine display of bonding, before the lion leaned his head in close to the Doctor’s lips. “Tell me, kith of Chaka,” he breathed, “is your house still averse to our customary greeting?”

Both Mickey and Rose’s eyebrows disappeared into their respective hairlines, too stunned to move. It appeared the Doctor was about to be kissed by a lion, which was no light endeavour given the prominence of the creature’s maw. The Doctor seemed temporarily dumbfounded, as his babbling, incoherent sounds testified; he seemed to be looking for a polite way of declining a repeat of a bad experience. The lion curled his lips – into a smile - and roared with laughter, releasing the Doctor’s arms in the process. The Doctor’s hand began bothering the hairs on his nape and the lion heartily slapped him in the back, knocking the chipped tooth out of his grasp. “Still the same!” the lion guffawed. This seemed to relax the crowd, and he turned to walk among them as they dispersed.

“Doctor!” Rose stepped towards the Doctor’s bent form, putting a hand to his back and chest, “you alright?” The Doctor nodded, the wind having been knocked out of him. After watching her swift aide, Mickey belatedly came over and picked the tooth off the dry ground.

The lion turned back. “Still the Doctor?” he seemed both surprised and impressed. The Doctor straightened back up and slid his hands into his trouser pockets to regain his composure. “I am Othniel, sixth leader of the Chaka pride since union began.” A breeze picked up around them; Othniel looked out over the plains. “It seems the stories are true - you are the bringer of rains.” All three TARDIS kith looked to the horizon beyond the twin yellow suns, where tall, dark clouds were gathering.

“The Oncoming Storm,” Rose mused, glancing at the Doctor. Mickey smiled at the joke, while everyone else was looking distantly. After a lull of contemplation, Othniel spoke.

“You have come to bless the union?” he asked hopefully, not averting his eyes from the horizon. “My daughter is to marry into the pack of Phiri,” he elaborated, his words heavy with meaning. The Doctor’s features remained impassive. Rose and Mickey shuffled their feet awkwardly. Othniel sighed, and his attention returned to more immediate concerns. “The morning's pack hunters will return soon.” He turned to face the Doctor and gestured to a cave entrance, “Come and sleep with us, out of the midday heat.”

***

The cave network was extensive, an array of shallow entrances to separate dens. Mickey had no hesitation in falling asleep on the wooden bed provided, his sleep not yet adjusted to time travel. Although it seemed custom for beds to be shared during the midday siesta, Rose didn’t join him. She was now in possession of the chipped tooth and sought the Doctor’s company.

“I thought the TARDIS was impervious to attacks by the hordes of Genghis Khan?” she enquired, holding the tooth up.

“She is,” the Doctor took the tooth off her and turned it to expose the blue wood. “This chip – and the matching ones - she gave up willingly, as a sign of peace.” He pocketed the fang and put his hand in the small of her back, to guide her away from the sleeping forms. He led her into a main chamber, hollowed deeper into the structure, which seemed to be reserved for roused social gatherings.

Rose seemed unconvinced at his information, “I don’t know. Teeth as necklaces seem a bit,” she struggled for the right word, “conquest-y.”

The Doctor smiled at her perception. “The last time I was here, there was a battle over territory.” He continued to walk into the chamber and leaned against the edge of what appeared to be a raised pool. “There was a drought, and food was scarce.”

Rose joined in looking at their reflections in the water. “The Phiri and the Chaka fought over the same land to secure hunts.” He smiled at his memory of his solution, “I told them to share it.” Rose also smirked at his explanation. He looked to the ceiling, “Once they’d agreed on unity, I made it rain - to attract food with the new grass.”

Rose followed his gaze upwards, and discovered a painting of the TARDIS. “Basic atmospheric excitation,” he said nonchalantly, though his tone was a pleased one.

Rose spoke slowly, as the midday heat was affecting her, “So, they all own the land by marrying between the clans.”

The Doctor nodded, his enthusiasm lacking as he broke the water’s surface with his fingertips; the images distorted with the rippling. A silence followed, during which Rose became physically uncomfortable in the gaining humidity. “Why’s the air so clingy?” she complained, as fanning herself proved to be futile and increased her sweating. A few drops of condensed water fell into the pool.

“The approaching storm is convectional,” he rattled off. “With the air so hot, the cloud moisture readily evaporates to make things clammy.” Rose tugged her t-shirt away from her neck in vain. “Imagine what it’s like outside,” he put forward.

The TARDIS key felt unnaturally hot on her skin, as did its metal chain, and she lifted them to rest over her clothes. Rose tied her t-shirt up with a side knot and splashed her exposed abdomen with water. The cold was shocking to her skin, but instead of reviving her it added to her tiredness.

“You should go and sleep,” he offered. “The people are rather nocturnal.” Rose seemed reluctant to leave, so he jokingly added, “Make sure Mister Mickey hasn’t dehydrated.” 

With an unenthusiastic smile Rose left.

***

Othniel walked past Rose as she departed, giving her an open nod. The Doctor turned to face him with an almost nervous anticipation, which Othniel placated with a dismissive hand, “We are alone. I will not kiss you.” He joined the Doctor at the pool, drumming his long nails on the rim; his anxiety was in contrast to the Doctor’s relaxing form. “The nerves of the father of the bride,” he said with a sigh. “Even if I could sleep, the preparations for tomorrow’s ceremony continue,” he explained. “The cloth traders should arrive this afternoon, though I doubt they will appreciate the rain,” he smirked at the Doctor. The Doctor returned his smile, and the conversation lulled. Othniel looked back to where Rose had departed. “She wears her Belonging openly,” he mused of Rose’s key. “I did not expect such forthrightness in your mate.”

The Doctor’s eyes went very wide as he realised Othniel’s reasoning. His mouth engaged before his brain, “No! No, no, no; we’re good mates, but she’s not – I mean, it’s practical to wear the TARDIS key there.” His babbling continued, “She has family commitments, Mickey, even. No time for _mating_ -”

Othniel was somewhat amused at the Doctor’s attempt at rationalising. “She is in heat,” he stated. The Doctor’s lips parted at his words. “She has great spirit too - a wolf’s spirit; the children she bears will be strong. It would be foolish not to unite with her.” At that the Doctor closed his mouth, his protests sealed away. Othniel smiled to himself, a little in triumph. “The heat of women drives young men wild. Kefira, my eldest, triggered this season - hence the ceremony tomorrow. The importance of offspring in such unions.”

“Is she happy?” the Doctor asked plainly.

“Kefira spends many hours with the family she is to unite with,” Othniel replied easily, though his next words were heavy. “She is headstrong, and not always mindful of the ways that keep the peace.” Another silence lulled between them. After a while of contemplating his reflection, Othniel took a deep breath and motivated himself, “Still, there is much to prepare.” He pushed himself away from the pool’s rim. “Please, make yourself at home.” With that, Othniel left the Doctor.

It didn’t take the Doctor long to discover tables full of food, presumably for tomorrow’s ceremony. He sampled bits from each different dish on offer, including sticking his fingers in a giant cake. Little did the Doctor know, his appetite’s activities were being watched.

***

When Mickey woke up, it was a dream come true. Rose was on the bed next to him, with her shirt rolled up and her peroxided hair sticking to her face. Reality soon asserted itself, though, with bits of straw sticking up his backside. His discomforted shifting woke her up, and she looked at him with a sleepy smile. It turned into a grimace, though, as she caught a whiff of his sweat soaked shirt. Although Mickey usually wore the same clothes for days, even to him it smelled ripe. “Just like old times, eh?” Mickey said cheekily.

Rose swatted him playfully on the chest, before she leaned up on her elbow and cricked her neck to one side. Mickey stretched his large frame in all directions across the bed, and unsubtly brought his arm around Rose’s form. She gave him a teasing look, but lifted away to sit up properly. He sat up, too, and the stickiness of his attire bothered him enough to strip his shirt off. Rose admired his form with a cursory glance, which puffed up Mickey’s ego.

“So...” Mickey began. “Lion people.”

“They’re not really lion-people,” Rose replied eagerly. “When the Doctor took me to New Earth in the year five billion, there were cat people. Proper cats that just walked like us. But these people, I don’t know.” Her thoughts made her grimace slightly, “They’re like humans that have bred with lions.”

Mickey also made a face and looked around at his shack surroundings. “It all seems a bit tribal to me.”

Rose smiled in a slightly condescending way at Mickey's judging a book by its cover. “It’s not, though. They channel water into a central chamber to deal with droughts. The necklaces,” Rose picked up her TARDIS key and ran it along its chain. “It’s like they show where people belong, not what they’ve done.”

“Right,” Mickey nodded, not fully amending his views with this information. There was something he wanted to know, and he pointed to the TARDIS key. “So when do I get a necklace?”

Before Rose could answer, a ruckus sounded – a pack of hyena people boisterously entering the sleeping area. There were five young males playfully shoving each other, all with dark mottled fur and spiky crested hair. But their enjoyment quelled somewhat upon seeing Rose and Mickey. The tone shifted, from silly to sexual. Mickey protectively put his torso between Rose and their sights, but it didn’t stop the crowd from closing their eyes and taking deep sniffs. When their eyes broke open, they caught a glint of silver around Rose’s neck, and instead focused their intent on Mickey.

Mickey swallowed roughly and kept up his bravado gesturing. Rose patted Mickey on the shoulder, amused at the turn of events. She whispered into his ear, “Well, Mickey, you wanted to see what was out here and those here certainly like what they see!”

The largest of the boys stepped forward and put his gauntlet clad arm out to Mickey, inviting him to stand. “I’m Impisi, and I’d like your company.” Mickey joined forearms with Impisi and was hauled up rather clumsily to his feet. “I’m bonded in union tomorrow,” he announced. He gave a wicked grin, “Tonight is my last night of freedom!” With that, the boys disappeared in the same fashion they arrived with Mickey in tow.

However, one boy belatedly came into the room in a quieter manner. He was paler than those who had just left yet had the same unruly hair and glint in his eye. Rose shifted uncomfortably in her state of exposed flesh. “Not joining the others?” she enquired.

“No,” he said simply, calming himself from the effects of Rose’s heat. He looked to where the party had exited and gave a wry smile. “Mickey is in for an interesting night. My brother likes to party.” His expression became more sombre, “But this is one event I don’t feel like celebrating.” He regarded Rose, who seemed curious about his state of mind. He felt like he could trust this TARDIS kith. “My name is Sephiri. Come with me, there is somewhere I can talk more freely.” 

***

Rose found herself sitting amongst denser shrubs by a waterfall outside the rock structure. The weather had cooled considerably with the passing storm. Rose had undone her knotted shirt, but the TARDIS key was yet to lose its heat so it remained above her clothes. Sephiri was sitting alongside her, confessing his misfortune. It seemed to lift a great burden from him.

“I love Kefira. She loves me. But while her heart is mine, her body will belong to my brother.”

Rose gave a sympathetic smile. “Why can’t she marry you?”

“I have nothing to give her to keep the peace,” Sephiri explained. “Impisi is the eldest, and he inherits the Belonging.” He gestured to Rose’s necklace. “Besides, I am small and pale. It’s not... favoured in males.” He chuckled to himself, “Though she finds no fault in my body. It seems that love is blind.”

Rose smiled in understanding, and the ensuing silence between them was filled with the sound of falling water. Rose began playing with her hair in a vain attempt to calm the frizz the waterfall mist was inducing.

Sephiri found it amusing, “Kefira is often complaining of her appearance, and spends hours preening.” After an agreeable smile, Sephiri’s thoughts returned to the main topic. “Mickey protects you like you are his, yet he does not Belong to you.”

It dawned on Rose the similarities between the situation on the TARDIS and here. She didn’t have time to articulate a reply. They heard a rustling in the brush, followed by a yelp that sounded distinctly human and Mickey-like. Both Rose and Sephiri jumped off the ledge and decided to investigate.

***

It was roughly at this point Mickey was contemplating going home. He had become embroiled in a Stag Night equivalent, involving many modifications to his appearance. His head had been shaved down the sides and back, so he was left with a crest at the front. Yellow splodges now adorned his chest, with a big streak down his back for good measure. From tin dog to wild dog, he looked part of the pack. But he was having a hard time adjusting to the impromptu kill of the small creature being offered to him as a token. Mickey wrinkled his nose and wished for something out of a tin.

“There is no spirit in domesticated animals,” Impisi justified his actions. “A roaming life is a better life, for them and for us - the adventure of the hunt!” He handed the carcass to one of his friends and promptly sniffed the air. The glint in his eye said he’d whiffed something pleasing. It was the same look he’d given Rose earlier, and duly he began to follow the scent.

***

Since the rain had passed and people were milling about outside, the Doctor was out looking for Rose. He’d walked quite a way from the rocks, following the unsubtle movements in the brush, until the girlish scream revealed the disturbance to be Mickey. The Doctor turned around scanning his surroundings, and spotted a flash of peroxide blonde moving from by a waterfall cascading over the central rock face. With a bounce in his step, he headed in her direction.

Suddenly the Doctor was pounced on from behind. He tumbled to the unyielding, moist ground and felt teeth grazing his nape. It wasn’t in a threatening way though, just a restraining one. Once he relaxed a little, teeth were replaced by a rasping tongue. After a few licks, his captor drew back and purred, “We are compatible.”

The Doctor mentally sighed. It couldn’t be coincidence that two adventures in a row had a case of mistaken compatibility. Before he could crawl away in a dignified fashion, he had been flipped over by strong hands and kept in place by muscular thighs. He recognised the family resemblance, as well as the determined look in her dilating pupils.

The babbling began in earnest, “You’re strong. Like father like daughter, eh?” He quietened down when she began combing her long nails through his fringe and down his cheek. Yup, too much to be coincidence; every woman except Rose seemed determined to kiss this body. Kefira appeared to be attempting to extract DNA from the back of his throat with her exceptionally long tongue. While it wasn’t an altogether disagreeable experience, his tongue was unusually subservient, and it was leaving an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

When Kefira had finished her initial probing, she sat up and put her hand in a satchel. She retrieved a portion of the large cake he had sampled earlier and dabbed some of the icing on his nose. She had designs to lick it off the tip but was disturbed by her intended’s indignant outburst. Kefira pinned Impisi with a slightly smug though largely irritated glare.

Impisi, it seemed, was more irate with the Doctor than his intended. “You may have made the peace long ago, Doctor,” he spat. “But that doesn’t entitle you to its spoils!”

Mickey said nothing. After all, he empathised with Impisi over the Doctor stealing his girlfriend. The Doctor looked dumbfounded but wasn’t explaining away the situation. Instead the Doctor clambered to his feet and pulled his jacket straight in an attempt at regaining composure. It wasn’t long after that Rose turned up with Sephiri, both a little out of breath from running, on the opposite side of the Doctor to the hyena clan. No doubt others would soon be arriving in response to the indignant cries.

Kefira slinked over to Impisi, playing her nails over his chest, to ease his temper with seduction. Impisi held her possessively close and pointed an accusing finger at the Doctor’s nose. “That cake is meant for us alone, Doctor. It ensures our offspring.”

The Doctor mouthed a silent ‘oh’ as realisation dawned. His mouth geared into his brain as he explained it to himself, “The cake contains compounds that facilitate reproduction between different species.” As if testing this theory, he wiped the icing off his nose and tasted it, smacking his lips. The more he thought on it, the more delighted he became, “So kissing with someone who’s consumed it means you’re digging up their DNA to mix with your own.” A winning smile appeared, “Brilliant, really.”

The Doctor’s casual explanation dissipated some of the tension. Othniel arrived on the scene, his presence commanding an explanation as to the events. People’s focus was divided equally between the Doctor and Impisi, so it was a surprise when Sephiri cleared his throat. “Your daughter has _the hots_ over many,” Sephiri began. This information didn’t surprise anyone. But Sephiri struggled with his next words, “However, she loves two, and doesn’t want to unite with one.”

Confessing the words to all those in attendance relieved Sephiri of a great burden. But it was hearsay, so he approached Kefira. Impisi looked between his brother and his intended, as if having his suspicions confirmed. Sephiri took the satchel from Kefira; she didn’t resist his efforts, and almost seemed thankful of his actions. He presented the satchel to Othniel, and gestured for him to examine the contents. The big cat got cake out of the bag, and it was something of a revelation. “I think Kefira – influenced by her heat,” Sephiri began, not wanting to tarnish Othniel’s pride, “wanted to use the Doctor to shake up her intended union. It’s not how she wants things.”

Othniel dropped the satchel and regarded his daughter. Kefira’s eyes were slightly watered at all these disclosures. Othniel smiled warmly and opened his arms to welcome her home. She nose-kissed him before she disappeared into his fatherly embrace.

Although sympathetic to Kefira’s feelings, Impisi was restless. “What of the union? What of the peace?”

“Why can’t she marry both of you?” Rose suggested. Everybody looked at her, and she stood taller to get her point across. “Monogamy isn’t for everyone.” She wasn’t sure who that last statement was for, but everyone reacted to it.

The Doctor chimed in, “It’s clear the Kefira won’t be, err, satisfied with one partner. This keeps it in the family.” His cheery tone took the edge off his next words, “What’s tradition and peace if it causes unhappiness?”

Kefira took Sephiri’s hand and led him over to Impisi. The brothers regarded each other; Impisi could easily have beaten his brother to a pulp, but he wanted Kefira to be happy. After a minute’s contemplation, Impisi extended his hand and the brothers locked forearms. They were the first to leave the area. The hyena clan dissipated soon after in search of more fun, and Othniel returned to where he came from.

The Doctor bore a very proud smile and held his arms wide open as he approached Rose. She was happily enveloped, even if his clothes were a bit damp. Not that she was complaining, but the solution for keeping the peace seemed a bit too domestic for the Doctor’s tastes to warrant such a hug. Still, she was content with whatever contact the Doctor offered, and he seemed reluctant to let go until he noticed Mickey was watching them.

The Doctor said he’d invited Mickey along for a laugh. He and Rose were certainly chuckling over Mickey’s appearance.

***

The following afternoon, the House of TARDIS emerged from their blue box. Mickey had found a shirt in the TARDIS wardrobe but he wore the same jeans he’d been wearing for many days. Unfortunately nothing could be done about his hair until they went home. Rose still found it a great source of amusement, “You’ll have to get Mum to cut it for you.” Mickey wrinkled his nose at her suggestion. Rose persisted in her argument, “It’s not like you can afford to get it cut elsewhere. Like me, no job.” At her words Mickey’s shoulders slumped slightly.

The ceremony was held in the central chamber of the cave network and was quite short. Those involved in the union were wearing blue ceremonial robes, much like the hue of the TARDIS. The people gathered had, to some extent, accepted the threesome marriage. Possibly this was aided by Rose donating a collection of old shampoos and manicure items to Sephiri, for him to present to Kefira; the items were seen as a blessing of the union. Akin to Earth weddings, cake and kissing signalled the union sealed. The percussive music was a lot better than ceremonies at home though, as it reverberated around the walls.

The Doctor was bouncing on his feet to the rhythm, getting a bit carried away with the samba atmosphere. Rose found his bouncy energy infectious and took his hand and joined in his dancing. It seemed it was customary to kiss the person next to you in this party opening. To Rose’s surprise, the Doctor was going native, and his lips were descending on hers. She intercepted them with her finger, “This isn’t going to make me pregnant, is it? I know you and your cake fetish.”

The Doctor pouted, to amusing effect as his lips swelled either side of Rose’s finger. Sensibly he backed his head away a little before talking, “Not unless you’ve got a cake fetish, too. Why, do you want to be pregnant?”

Rose dropped her hand from his, and the look she gave him was reminiscent of the time he’d eaten all her luxury chocolate. He had learned the activity was something he should not pursue. He swallowed before rattling off an explanation. “It takes two to eat, and a _lot_ – I mean a lot - of kissing for an effective genetic transfer. One kiss is between friends.” Seeing she was warming up to his words, he licked his lips, grinned, and waggled his eyebrows for good measure. “’Tis the season. _When in Rome_. Or Proud Pack, as the case, err, is.”

The playground myth about getting pregnant from kissing didn’t seem so far fetched anymore. But Rose believed him, retook his hand and smiled warmly. At her invitation, he bent down and they shared a chaste meeting of lips. As much as the Doctor wanted to explore his oral talents, she wouldn’t allow any more; she remembered Mickey was with them.

Mickey, however, seemed ignorant of their antics, as he was looking to the newly unified threesome in contemplation. “So, they called it Proud Pack because it’s a marriage between lion prides and hyena packs,” he deduced.

Rose rolled her eyes, and gave a smile of pity to the ignorant. She patted him on the shoulder and encouraged him to join in the dancing. He did so, notably avoiding the prowling males.

The Doctor was content to hover by the tables and eat, keeping an eye on his companions (one more than the other). Rose and Mickey tired long before the nocturnal residents. The Doctor went over to Rose and pulled on her arm slightly, “Come on then, you two. Home.” Rose clasped her hand in the Doctor’s and leaned into him. Mickey followed behind them.

As the Doctor turned the key in the TARDIS, Rose had a final, cheeky thought. “You know, Kefira only went for you because you’re so pale.”

~~~~~


End file.
